


Head Over Heels

by saecchii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Catboy Lance, Dogboy Shiro, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Insecurities, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nyance, Pining Shiro (Voltron), catboys and dogboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 17:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saecchii/pseuds/saecchii
Summary: Shiro gains a new roommate, who he is absolutely smitten with.





	

In hindsight, Shiro had probably asked for this when he put up that roommate ad. Shiro really hadn’t _wanted_ a new roommate, but with Matt off teaching physics abroad, and a rent and other expenses he couldn’t cover alone, Shiro was hard-pressed to do so anyway.

He had initially asked Keith, his childhood friend, to be his roommate. But the other boy, a half-dog/half-wolf boy, had promptly refused. He was suspiciously comfortable in his creepy, old-ass apartment building. He had also said he didn’t need Shiro mothering him in close quarters and that had been the end of that. Shiro’s own ears had wilted.

Shiro went through seven applicants, each worse than the last. Shiro had wanted to call it quits when he’d seen a last minute reply to his ad pop up on his phone. He opened his email app and read over the message. 

A cat-boy by the looks of it, only about 2-3 years younger than him and also attending his university had replied in. He was studying astronomy, worked at a flower shop Shiro had never heard of.  He liked the beach and knitting. The picture enclosed had made Shiro’s heart flutter the moment he had scrolled down and it had fully loaded.

The prettiest face Shiro had ever seen was smiling back at him, accompanied by a wink and a peace sign. A mischievous curl graced his lips. A pair of soft-looking ears sat atop his short brown hair. Even his brown skin looked flawless, well-kept and sun-kissed.

 Shiro felt his palms get sweaty.

 So maybe he was already pretty biased. For all he knew, Lance could have been the roommate from hell. A pretty face didn’t mean he wasn’t all the things Shiro would hate in a roommate. Maybe he would bring over lots of girls? Never wash the dishes? Maybe even use Shiro’s stuff without asking?

 Those were the only thoughts that were keeping Shiro from replying to Lance and telling him right then and there that Matt’s old room was his.

 Instead, he told Lance that they could meet at the Altea Coffee his friend Allura’s family owned and talk more about it. It wasn’t far from campus, but he put the address just the same. He hesitated over the send button before clicking it.

 Shiro looked down at the picture again.

 Shit, really tempting.

+

 Shiro had down about two macchiatos just waiting for Lance. He had showed up twenty minutes early, greeted Allura, ordered his shots and then posted himself up in a window booth. He was close to putting back another when he spotted a flash of blue. Shiro craned his neck.

 Lance, Shiro realized, was standing outside Altea Coffee. He was checking his phone and double checking the sign. Shiro’s eyes roamed him; he wore a military jacket too big on him over a light blue shirt that only barely covered his stomach and a pair of high-waisted shorts. His long, brown tail curled behind his leg. Oh god, his legs, they went on for miles. Shiro choked. From the register, Allura shot him an unimpressed look.

 When the bell jingled overhead, Shiro was already sliding out from his seat and calling for the catboy.

 Lance startled, looking around before locking eyes with Shiro. He grinned, a flash of sharp teeth peeking out from his lips. The closer Lance got, the more Shiro wanted to melt.

 “Guess you’re Shiro, huh? Definitely wasn’t what I was expecting,” Lance greeted, holding out a hand. “You already know, but the name’s Lance.”

 Shiro took it, cracking a grin and hoping his tail wasn’t wagging behind him. Lance not so subtly roved his eyes over Shiro’s body, tail curling.

 “Pleasure to finally meet you. You want anything? I’ll pay since you came all the way down here,” Shiro offered.

 “Buff and polite,” Lance teased. “I wouldn’t mind living with you.”

 Hurriedly under his breath, Shiro muttered, _“Neither would I.”_

 Lance settled on a caramel frappe, which Shiro was already hurrying to the register to fulfill. He prayed he didn't look as desperate as he felt.

 “Do you want a free cup of water,” Allura asked, white ears flickering and punching in Lance’s orders. “I think you need it.”

 Shiro shot her a dry look, handing over the money for Lance’s frappe. Allura took it with a hum, handing over the cup to the older man, Coran, to work on. Shiro leaned against the cash register, forcing himself not to peek over his shoulder at Lance. He put his forehead to his forearms, still leaning on the register. When he looked down at the counter, a cup of water stared back at him.

 Allura handed him the frappe and the water when he looked up at her and shooed him away.

 “Here you go,” Shiro said. He slid the drink over to Lance. “So, uh, tell me about yourself?”

 Lance took a sip, tail curling happily behind him. A soft purr worked it's way from his throat, content. Shiro’s leg bounced rapidly under the table.

 “Mm, I come from a big family, I'm the middle child, and your former roommate's little sister is the one that pointed me towards your ad,” Lance said. “Also, I'm a dog person.”

 Shiro’s brain nearly short-circuited on “dog-person” before it zeroed in on what was really making him pause during Lance’s answer. Shiro’s mouth fell open.

 “You know _Pidge_ ? Wait, wait,” Shiro sputtered. “You're _that_ Lance?”

 “Which Lance?” Lance cried.

 Shiro covered his mouth with a hand, holding back a laugh. Lance narrowed his eyes at him, frappe lowering as he glared over at Shiro.

 “Only that she knew a Lance that got himself handcuffed to a tree freshman year by a pretty catgirl,” Shiro teased. “That wouldn't be you, would it?”

 Lance huffed, indignantly.

 Sipping into his frappe, Lance mumbled, _it might be._

 Shiro did end up laughing at that, head thrown back as he fell against the booths back. Lance puffed up, tail and ears ruffling. Shiro’s tail thumped the seat in his mirth.

 “Sorry,” Shiro breathed around a laugh. “I just - You're so pretty. The way Pidge described you, I imagined someone completely different.”

 Lance flushed, fingers drumming on his cup. Shiro only just then realized what he'd said when he saw a pretty flush work its way up Lance’s neck and along his cheeks.

 “You really think I'm pretty?” He squeaked.

 “I - yeah,” Shiro stuttered, leg beginning to bounce. “Prettiest cat I've ever seen.”

 All of Lance’s bravado had suddenly evaporated as he shyly looked up at Shiro, obviously surprised as he thanked him. Shiro rubbed the back of his neck, equally as shy.

 “So I, uh, about the room,”Shiro began. “I wouldn't mind you being my roommate. Pidge wouldn't have recommended it to you if she didn't think it could work, right? Despite what she sometimes says.”

 “What  does she say?” Lance squawked.

 “I - nothing?” Shiro answered lamely. “Uh, well, did you really think the library was haunted ?”

 Lance buried his head in his hands. “Oh my god. She's told you _everything._ ”

 “Not everything! Just - you know some stuff. Like how you got sick eating too many parfaits on a dare, or how you fell into the fountain flirting with Professor S -”

 Lance launched himself over the table, hands slapping over Shiro’s mouth. He was three seconds away from combustion.

 “Okay, okay, enough, we are going to _have_ to be roommates now because you know too much!” Lance hissed.

 Shiro smiled behind his hands, tugging them down just enough to speak clearly.

 “So, you want to be roommates?” Shiro asked.

 Lance huffed. “You're lucky I'm a dog person because you're terrible.”

 Shiro only grinned.

 +

The day Lance was finally set to move in, Shiro was a giant bundle of nerves. He had been up the night before cleaning, cleaning again, and then passing by Matt’s old room in that order.

Soon it was going to be Lance’s room. Lance was going to be in that room. Lance was going to sleep in Matt’s old bed, put his clothes in Matt’s old closet. It was going to become Lance’s room. Shiro was going to wake up and _see_ Lance. They were going to share a shower, eat breakfast together, sit together -

 Shiro swallowed, licking at his lips. Maybe Allura had been onto something with the water because Shiro’s mouth felt _dry_. It had been so long since he’d been so thoroughly attracted to someone, clicked so suddenly with them. It was truly surprising how quickly he’d developed a crush on Lance.

He fiddled with the awful thought that maybe Lance and he wouldn’t get along in the end. After all, Lance was so warm and lively? He liked the ocean, swam competitively in high school, and was thinking of applying for a job at the aquarium during the summer. Shiro was boring compared to him. What did he like to do? Read, do push-ups in the morning, job at 6 AM? There was no way Lance would be interested him as something more down the line if he was just as boring as a roommate.

Shiro fretted, ears drooping.

The superficial part of Shiro was taken with Lance’s beauty. It was easy enough to be drawn into him, by his flawless brown skin and winning, bright smile. His entire persona seemed to feed off of attention, Shiro guessed. He was dramatic and lively and Shiro enjoyed every moment.

At a quarter to one, someone knocked on the door. Shiro leapt to his feet, pretending he hadn’t and quickly opened the door. A stacked bunch of boxes was the first thing he saw, then a pair of ears peeking around the box.

“Hey, Lance,” Shiro said, smiling at him. His heart beat loudly.

“Hey, Shiro,” Lance greeted. “Mind helping me out?”

Shiro took the boxes into his hands, moving aside for Lance to enter. He went down the hall, Lance following, and nudged open the spare bedroom door. Shiro put the boxes to the floor and gestured to the room.

“I made sure to clean it up for you. Matt was kind of a slob,” Shiro said, just a hint of shyness in his tone. His tail moved nervously behind him. He rubbed the back of his neck out of habit.

Lance’s tail flickered. He touched the bed, a pair of simple sheets adorning them, the plain curtains, and then the door of the open, empty closet. He nodded, hands on his hips. Behind him, Shiro wagged his tail in delight, only barely catching himself right before Lance turned around to speak to him.

“Plain, but I can work with this,” Lance affirmed. “Nothing a little Lance charm can’t cure.”

He bumped into Shiro purposely on his way back out, throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder.

“You’re helping me with the rest of my stuff, right?” He asked, not sticking around to hear Shiro’s answer.

Shiro eyed the smooth movements of his tail, up the curve of his back to his wide shoulders. He made a disbelieving noise. How quickly Lance had him wrapped around his finger that he didn’t even have to expect Shiro _not_ to help him.

(Shiro would. He was a nice guy. But maybe he would have even thrown his jacket down in a puddle for Lance at this rate).

He hurried out after the catboy, wondering if maybe this would inevitably become a recurring theme in their budding relationship. Lance glanced at him from over his shoulder, eyes widening for a half second. A warm grin settled on his face, opening his car door for Shiro to grab a box. Then he grabbed one himself. They moved between the apartment and car in quick successions, laughing and bumping each other along the way. A couple times they had to try and squeeze past each other, eyes meeting and smiles spreading instantly. Shiro felt so warm.

How many boxes later, Shiro didn’t know, but it was enough to make his arms ache as he collapsed against the couch. Lance had disappeared into the room, intent on at least getting through half of his stuff before dinner.

Shiro could hear Lance inside the room. An occasional curse here, a sound of delight there pricked at Shiro’s ears. A few moments later, Lance made an “aha!” and then the sound of boxes being shoved aside followed after. Shiro leaned, trying to see down the hallway.

Then, What’s New Pussycat blasted out of Lance’s room as Lance howled along. Shiro was so caught off guard he nearly fell off the couch, the rolled off anyway in a fit of laughter. Lance wailed louder around a “WOOOAH OOH OHH”. Shiro picked himself up, still snickering, and cooked dinner to the tune of Lance’s singing.

+

 The first morning waking up to living with Lance was like a dream come true. Clad in nothing but a big shirt and short-shorts hidden by said shirt, Shiro was witness to his thin body, stretching and twisting, long tail mirroring his movements. What he wouldn’t give to be able to run his hand over it, over the bare expanse of Lance’s back under his shirt, maybe kiss a shoulder. Shiro forced those thoughts away.

Frankly, Lance didn’t look so great right away. He still had on his mud-mask, his hair was unbrushed, and maybe a little bit of drool was at the corner of his mouth. His shirt was old and ratty, a big hole at the back of it revealing a lone shoulder blade.  It had seen better days, to be sure, and Shiro was seeing one right now. Lance detoured into the bathroom to wash up, returning refreshed and glowing.

“Morning, Lance,” Shiro chirped, traitorous tail wagging behind him. “Sleep well?”

“Pretty good. Was a bit hard at first, in such a strange bed. But definitely better than the ones at the dorms,” Lance answered. He yawned big, fine-pointed fangs peeking out. Shiro nodded. He knew all right. Cramming and sleepless finals study nights were one thing, but a lumpy, old bed was another. Shiro had ingested enough coffee before he and Matt had gotten an apartment to be part keurig.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Shiro asked. He was reaching for the spatula just as Lance’s hand came and swiped it away.

“Oh no, you already cooked dinner. It’s my turn. You deserve something for all your hard work yesterday,” Lance said, waving the spatula. “I grew up in a big household, I’ve perfected breakfast cooking to an art form. Even Hunk weeps at my skill and he’s a culinary major from a long line of chefs.”

Lance moved around the kitchen, gathering bowls, eggs, bacon, pancake mix, bread, pots and pans. Then he scrutinized Matt’s coffee collection, swearing under his breath that he was as big a coffee snob than Hunk. Hunk had an amazing palate, Lance added in as an afterthought. Shiro was happy it was an off-day for him.

“Sunny side up? Also bacon would be great,” Shiro said.

Lance cracked an egg on the side of a bowl, effortlessly throwing it in the trash with a clean shot. Shiro’s eyes widened as Lance smugly grinned.

“Prepare to be amazed,” Lance chirped.

Shiro held back the urge to say that he already was (and that he couldn’t wait to be continuously amazed even more).

+

 One week passed before Shiro knew it. Then another, and another. Then a month and half had come and gone since Lance moved in.

 Lance had tip-toed around Shiro at first, despite his open bravado and smug disposition. It had surprised Shiro that Lance was actually so much more withdrawn as the first week progressed. The first few days met Shiro with Lance the way he had been at the coffee shop - teasing, smug, and boisterous. Afterwards, Lance had seemed to second guess himself a couple of times.

 When Shiro had asked, Lance had only said, “I didn’t want to annoy you. I know that I can be - kind of much. I’ve really come to like you and not living in the dorms and having my own room for _once_. I didn’t want to mess it up.”

 “By not being yourself?” Shiro had asked, unable to hide his bafflement.

 Lance had winced, turning away as his ears flattened against his head. He curled into himself, away from Shiro. Shiro hesitantly reached out, catching Lance’s eyes to get his permission to touch him.

 “Lance,” Shiro began. “You have no idea how many applicants I turned away before I saw yours. Believe me, _they_ were annoying. One girl only bathed like once a week. Another had like seven pet spiders.”

 Lance’s jaw dropped, self-consciousness momentarily forgotten as he looked to Shiro for confirmation. He bit his lip a moment later, teeth threatening to pierce his soft bottom lip. Shiro reached for his shoulder but settled on where Lance’s hands were in his lap.

 “You are definitely _not_ annoying. If anything, your entire personality was why I had already decided from the get-go that I wanted you to be my roommate. _I_ was worried you wouldn’t get along with me? I’m pretty boring, Lance,” Shiro admitted.

 “What? You like the least boring person I have ever met!” Lance said. “Who the heck reads about applied physics for fun while doing one-armed push ups? Or what about that cool robo-arm Pidge made you? People don’t believe you’re _real_. I’ve literally been bragging about you at work, Shiro!”

 Then, “Did you really think all that about me?” Lance asked, voice high. He cleared his throat, repeating the question in a lower tone.

 Shiro cracked a grin.

 “I’m serious. Is that something you often think about?”

 “Uh - well. Kind of? Public school is kind of brutal, you know. Kind of messes with you growing up when people say - little things,” Lance said.

 Shiro took Lance by the chin, stroking the underside. Lance’s eyes lidded, a look of comfort falling over him. He eyed Shiro.

 “That doesn’t make it true, though. If anything, that just shows the character of the other person. You’re much more than that, Lance. So much more. If you need to hear it now and again, I’d be more than happy to tell you how great you are,” Shiro said. “But you also have to believe it yourself, too.”

 Lance snorted, a truly amused thing. He smiled a little. “That’s the hard part,” Lance muttered.

 “Yeah, but I’ll support you. That’s - that’s what friends are for,” Shiro said. His stomach dropped at the word friends.

 Lance eyed him again, blue eyes boring into his own almost too intensely. Then he smiled, nuzzling into Shiro’s touch with a light purr. “Thank you, Shiro.”

 Shiro swallowed. “Any time.”

 +

 Shiro’s feelings from then on were out of hand. What was to help bolster Lance’s confidence was bordering on obvious at this point. He felt bad half of the time, hoping it didn’t seem as though he were taking advantage of Lance’s good nature by subtly revealing his emotions like he had.

 But how would Lance know that, “You are amazing, Lance” or “You look stunning today, Lance?” was anything but platonic? Lance seemed to take it in stride anyway, brightening each time and setting Shiro’s heart on fire.

 It was only a matter of time before he realized the intentions, though, Shiro was sure of this.

 Shiro fretted again.

 Lance had, after all, been working hard on himself. He had taken to heart the “fake it till you make it mentality” growing up to the point that he had started to confuse the lie and the truth. Lance was an extrovert, Lance thrived on good vibes and conversation and attention. But Lance was also impulsive, moving before the rest of him could process sometimes. He second-guessed when his brain caught up and obsessed after the fact.

 The next few months were hard on Lance as he worked at himself, getting into the habit of catching himself before folding into himself, or trying to cover up his insecurities behind a grin. A couple of times it required a calming touch from Shiro or a kind word. It didn’t fix anything, but for the time being it was enough to help Lance reaffirm his stance and puff out his chest and run head-on.

 Between those, he would catch Shiro in the middle of something (doing push-ups, watching some documentary with extended aesthetic shots of mountains and oceans, anything) and ask him about it. He tried to work out as much as he could with him, going about halfway before he resigned himself to being a weight for Shiro to carry as he did his push ups. Or simply letting Shiro ramble about what he'd been studying. Their shared interest in astronomy sparked enough talks about aliens to nearly summon Keith.

 Some days Lance would fold himself over Shiro’s shoulder from behind, face pressing into Shiro’s neck as he hugged him. A soft purr rumbled from him setting Shiro’s ears up straight. Shyly, Lance said, “Thanks, Shiro. You’ve been really good to me.”

 Shiro patted his arm, warm, so warm, and proud of Lance. “Any time.”

 +

 Lance’s first heat had caught Shiro off guard. He had come home to the strong scent of sex and loud yowling from Lance’s room.

 At first he had thought that Lance had had someone over. It wasn’t something they had discussed, and despite Lance being vocal about his attraction for people, he had never mentioned a boyfriend or a girlfriend or any significant other. Lance was beautiful. There was no reason he wouldn’t catch someone’s eyes like he had caught Shiro’s.

 Shiro gulped, hesitantly walking past Lance’s room and into his. Just as he passed, Lance wailed loudly, something garbled and almost like a name falling from his lips. Shiro could only freeze, halted before his roommate’s door. The scent of arousal and want were so strong, Shiro’s knees felt weak. His mouth watered.

 The urge to peek it was so great, but Shiro held out. He had gained so much of Lance’s trust these last few months. The last thing he wanted was to ruin it.

 Shiro’s ears perked. The sound of wet squelching, Lance’s shuddering breaths. He was coming to a climax, Shiro realized. The bed shifted, frame knocking the wall.

 His pants tightened, tenting and wanting.

 “Sh - ah - Shi- nngh!” Lance cried. “Shiro!”

 “Shiro! Shiro! Shiro!” Lance chanted, climax hitting. He moaned long and loud, wet noises of him still pleasuring himself clear.

 Shiro was floored, stumbling over to crash against the adjacent wall. He slid down to the floor. His cock throbbed. Pre-cum soiled his boxers. Weakly, Shiro called Lance’s name. He reached into his pants, past his boxers and palmed himself.

 “Lance,” Shiro whimpered. “ _Lance_.”

 He came not long after, embarrassingly quick. Shiro knocked his head against the wall, hand soiled and still inside of his pants. He wanted to lie down and sleep right there. He wanted to go in and spoon Lance, lick him clean. He did neither.

 Shiro picked himself up went to the bathroom to clean up as quickly as possible. Lance would probably want a shower not long after. Shiro slept through dinner, but awoke to Lance’s muffled, heated cries through the thin walls separating them.

 Shiro rolled over and took himself in hand again.

 +

 Lance was shy when the heat had passed. He didn’t look Shiro in the eye during breakfast. Shiro didn’t blame him. He couldn’t either. The elephant was right there - big and unavoidable. Yet they both were trying anyway.

 Lance stirred his coffee with a sniff.

 “I know you heard me,” Lance started. “I don’t know when exactly but I know you did.”

 Shiro froze, hot coffee burning his throat. He chanced a look up at Lance. Lance’s face was flaming, trying hard to look Shiro in the eye. He stopped stirring his coffee.

 “I heard you, too,” Lance said, but he sounded unsure. “Thin walls.”

 Shiro nodded, not knowing what else to do. This was it - he thought. Lance was going to decide that he had crossed a line, that maybe he was only using Shiro for fodder during his heat-hazed brain. That _Shiro_ shouldn’t have presumed the way he had and taken advantage of Lance’s incapacitation to beat off.

 “I just wanted to ask - do you - are you?” Lance groaned. Then he stood up in a flurry, chair falling back. “Do you like me too? Like, do you like- _like_ me?”

 Shiro’s mouth fell open. “You’re not mad?”

 “What?” Lance asked alarmed. “No! I - I thought maybe _you_ were mad! But - but then I heard you - uhm - and hoped that _maybe_ you felt the same way? That it wasn’t my heat messing with you?”

 “I, uh, well - “

 “Oh god, it was, wasn’t it? You got a whiff and it totally gave you an awkward boner and now I have to move out because I really wanted you to fuck me into the mattress but was too scared of ruining our friendship,” Lance moaned, hands flying over his face. “I’m sorry -”

 “No!” Shiro yelped, getting to his feet. He took Lance by the shoulders. “Don’t be sorry!”

 “Your heat definitely affected me. But, I mean, I’ve been kind of interested you from the very beginning. So it just - amplified it? There’s no reason for you to move out. I like-like you.”

 Lance looked at Shiro from behind his fingers. “You sure? I used to accidentally give Hunk awkward boners. But we grew up together, we’re bros. It was a, you know, bro-ner.”

 Shiro choked on a laugh, tried to haul it in and just ended up laughing way too hard after that. He pressed his forehead to Lance’s shoulder, still laughing. Lance made an affronted noise, whining Shiro’s name.

 “Shiro, please, you’re making this worse!”

 “I’m sorry, Lance, I swear. But do you hear yourself sometimes? A bro-ner?” Shiro laughed. He petted Lance’s hip. “I can tell you with utmost certainty that it wasn’t a bro-ner. I really wanted to fuck you into that mattress, too.”

 Lance exploded into a flush, stuttery and cute. Shiro grinned, standing to full height again. Lance pawed at his chest, gaze flitting up.

 “What if I wanted to ride you?” Lance asked measuredly.

 “Anything. So long as we were both willing,” Shiro said. “I wouldn’t mind getting to ride you either.”

 The grin that broke out on Lance’s face was enough to get Shiro ready for a marathon. The corners of his mouth quirked, eyes lidded as he shouldered into Shiro’s space.

 “Safe to say you’ll help me through my next heat?” Lance asked.

 Shiro stroked down Lance’s hip, around to the base of his tail. Lance chirped, pleased.

 “Absolutely. But I think I want to take you on a date first,” Shiro said. “There’s a new botanical garden that just opened. It’s an hour’s drive out, but worth it according to Allura.”

 Lance’s eyes lit up. “So does that mean - ?”

 “Be my boyfriend, Lance?” Shiro asked around a large grin.

 Lance threw himself into Shiro’s arms, a sloppy kiss pressed against his lips. Lance nearly missed, quickly righting himself to press kiss after kiss to Shiro’s mouth. Shiro eagerly kissed back, stroking Lance’s ears, down along his back. Lance purred.

 +

 Shiro had always fantasized about what dating Lance would be like. The feel of his skin, what he looked like when they woke up together, the taste of his chapstick.

 Reality was far better than Shiro could have imagined. But maybe that was because Shiro had goggles on.

 Lance slept like an octopus. He also blanket-hogged. He liked to pet Shiro’s chest and nip at his chin. He kissed Shiro awake and right before bed. Shiro’s tail thumped in contentment every time. Lance threw his bare leg over Shiro’s waist, all teasing and shameless as he sat up on his elbows, bare save for the thin layer of Shiro’s sheets. He always laid with Shiro’s prosthetic around him. He kissed at Shiro’s scars and accepted the story of the accident only when Shiro was ready. Shiro was on cloud nine.

 They never went all the way. A handjob, a blowjob, and sloppy makeouts. They would take it slow, build up. Lance’s next heat wasn’t for a while. They had time to explore and get used to each other.

 They also had time for Lance to wheedle out embarrassing secrets from Keith. They had butted heads at first. Shiro didn’t know what he expected when he put two headstrong people in the same room. Keith had bared his teeth, a growl working out of his throat. Lance had puffed up, tail and ears twice their usual size as he hissed. All this from a game of monopoly, too.

 The thing that had put their war to rest was, incidentally, Shiro’s embarrassing childhood and obsession with card game cartoons. Keith had never been a fan, as much as Lance had teased him for that fact. But they had bonded over their mutual enjoyment in torturing Shiro.

 When Keith went home after every visit, Shiro would pin Lance to the couch cushions, both wrists caught in one hand as the other roved over his boyfriend’s body. Lance made a pleased noise, baring his neck just to tease.

“Guess you can’t get rid of me now, huh, Shiro?” Lance said, faking innocence. “I know too much.”

“As if I was going to get rid of you at all,” Shiro scoffed, and devoured Lance’s smirk in a kiss.

+

Their one year anniversary, something that had truly snuck up on them between finals and double shifts, had been spent on a hill, overlooking the city. There, under a clear night sky, curled together under Shiro’s jacket, Lance had taken Shiro by his prosthetic hand. He kissed each digit and looked Shiro in the eye.

“Shiro,” Lance started. “I love you.”

Cupping Lance’s face with his other hand, he pressed their foreheads together and breathed out a contented sigh.

“I love you, too, Lance,” Shiro said.

Right before Shiro’s eyes slid close, a star flew across the sky. Shiro grinned into their kiss and allowed Lance to push him down into the soft grass, both hands pressed palm to palm.

+

 It was the whine that woke Shiro up first. Shiro groaned in his sleep, ears flickering as he tried to raise himself to wakefulness. Something hot puffed against the side of his face. Something was pressing down over his front, grinding down on his crotch. Shiro growled sleepily, hands flying up to grab at the culprit.

 A familiar high-pitched cry startled Shiro fully awake. Blinking rapidly, Shiro’s eyes settled on the sight before him.

 Lance. Panting and wearing nothing but a big t-shirt with tears at the corner of his eyes. He ground his hips down against Shiro’s again, choking on a cry. Shiro nearly choked on his own tongue. A wet spot collected at the end of Lance’s shirt. Shiro zeroed in on the sudden realization that Lance’s unclothed cock was resting against Shiro’s stomach, leaving a wet trail just under his navel. Lance’s hips hadn’t stopped moving, slow but deep grinds that were making all of the blood to Shiro’s brain go south in record time.

 “Lance,” Shiro said, mouth dry. “What - What’s -?”

 “Shiro,” Lance whined. “Please. I’m really hot - _Please_.”

 Shiro swallowed, resisting to the urge to tell him _yes you are_ , as he eyed his roommate. Lance humped down in two sharp moves, a moan working its way out of his mouth. His tail curled behind him, t-shirt sliding down to reveal his bare, brown ass. Shiro’s dick made itself known just behind Lance’s balls, pressed against them and already beading through his boxers.

 “What do you need, Lance? I can’t know if you don’t tell me,” Shiro crooned. “Be a good kitty.”

 Lance took one of Shiro’s hands and moved it across his bare hip, back, back towards his ass and underneath his tail. Shiro squeezed his ass cheek, overjoyed that he could _finally_ do that.  His tail thumped down against the bed. The tip of his index finger brushed the place between his cheeks, dipping down to touch just above and behind Lance’s balls.

 “F-fuck me,” Lance stuttered. “I need it - I need you.”

 Shiro pulled him down into a rough kiss, hand fisted at the back of Lance’s hear in his short brown hair. Lance met him eagerly, mouth parting to let Shiro lick his way into his mouth. He brushed along Lance’s sharp teeth and along that rough tongue he had always imagined licking against other parts of Shiro’s body.

 Shiro pulled away enough for Lance to breathe. He looked at the other man, at his high flush and red, shining lips. His eyes were blown wide in the dark, slitted and zeroed in on Shiro.

 “More,” Lance said gulping. He dug the tips of his claws into Shiro’s shoulders. “ _More_.”

 Sitting up, Shiro leaned over and dug into his bedside drawer, fishing around for the bottle of lube. He pressed his thumb into the seam of Lance’s lips, thrilled when they parted and Lance’s sharp little incisors pressed back against his thumb, rough tongue laving over it. He didn't take his eyes off of Lance when he finally found it.  Lance purred when Shiro dropped it on the bed, reluctantly pulling his finger away.

 “Turn around Lance,” Shiro said. “Let me open you up.”

 Lance hurriedly complied, shifting so that he was laying his head sideways to be able to peek at Shiro. Then he raised his ass up, legs parting over Shiro's upper thighs. His loose t-shirt slid down over his back, bunching up near his chest.His tail twitched above him, idle.

 “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Shiro said, popping open the bottle. Lance nodded.

 Shiro took his time, coating the outside teasingly. The tip of his index finger would just barely breech before he was backing out again. Lance shuddered. Shiro leaned forward and nipped at an ass cheek, canines digging into the flesh teasingly as a finger curled inside of Lance.

 Lance yowled, arms curling down under him as he tried to push back against the digit. Shiro kissed up around the base of his tail and as far up his back as he could, twisting and stretching Lance open. Lance’s tail curled around Shiro’s shoulders, brushing against his jaw.

 When a second finger entered, Lance was sniffling. His tail thumped Shiro’s back. Shiro tongued at Lance’s taint, crooking his fingers just to make Lance sob.

 “Good boy, good kitty,” Shiro praised. “Almost there. Almost.”

 Three fingers in and Lance was sobbing, rubbing his face against the sheets, begging Shiro to enter him in a wet voice. Shiro gave a long lick from the base of his tail and up his spine. He rolled on a condom for good measure. He patted Lance’s ass, signaling he was done.

 Lance raised up on his forearms, blearily looking over his shoulder at Shiro. He scrambled around, licking into Shiro’s mouth and as he grinded down on Shiro’s cock. Shiro swallowed Lance’s needy moan. Lance reached behind him, gripping Shiro’s member and slowly sunk down. His breath hitched as he sank lower, claws digging into Shiro’s thighs. Shiro inhaled sharply, screwing his eyes shut in concentration to not buck up.

 “Yessss,” Lance hissed.

 He shifted a little, testing his limits. Shiro petted his hip absently, whispering  to him, lips just a breath away from Lance’s heated skin. Lance shivered. He ran a thumb over Shiro’s hip as he shifted. Lance leaned back, keening.

 “Shiro,” Lance moaned. “Move!”

 Shiro didn't think twice, fingers digging into Lance’s hips and fucking up with a strong thrust. Lance’s appraising, answering yowl was all the incentive Shiro needed before he was pistoning upward, driving deeper and deeper into his roommate.

 It was even better than his fantasies, buried so deeply inside of Lance, feeling how hot he was inside out. The loud squelch of their joining, the slap of skin, and the overwhelming mingling of scents made Shiro hold Lance tighter against him.

 “Knew you would feel good, knew you would look so gorgeous,” Shiro praised, half formed knot beginning to catch at Lance’s rim. “Look at you. How could anyone not fall in love with you? How could I not - God, Lance, look what you do to me.”

 Lance threw himself over Shiro, chin digging into his shoulder and claws embedded in his back. He sobbed, a high pitched needy wail  working from his throat. He grinded down, meeting Shiro’s thrusts as best as he could. He mouthed at Shiro’s neck.

 “Are you close, kitten?” Shiro asked.

 He rested a hand to the back of Lance’s head. He felt him nod.

 “Mount me,” Lance said, shuddering. “Knot me, take me, _mate me_ . Shiro, only you, _please.”_

 Shiro growled, pulling out and urging Lance around. Lance hurried to comply. He got to his knees, head tucked down between his arms. He spread his legs, mewling for Shiro.

 Shiro kneeled behind him, grabbed him by his tail and pulling it away, then eased back in with a hiss of air through his canines. Lance mewled louder, grinding back against him.

 “Shiro,” Lance moaned. “ _Shiro_.”

 “I know, kitten,” Shiro grunted.

 He leaned over Lance’s back, completely covering him, lacing their fingers together, the prosthetic one folding over Lance’s brown hand. Shiro gave a tug and received a reassuring squeeze back. Taking one hip in hand, Shiro thrust home.

 Lance clawed at the sheets, tearing and ripping into it as Shiro drove into him hard and unrelenting. Each full thrust in, Shiro lingered, making sure Lance could feel him, miss him when he had to draw back, and then started again. His half formed knot flared, growing and attempting to plug Lance full. Shiro dug his fingers into the flesh of Lance’s inner thigh. Lance’s cock hit his stomach, weeping and desperate. Lance reached down between his legs and palmed himself. His thumb brushed the tip. He keened.

 “Come on, kitten,” Shiro grunted. “Be good, be a good boy. Come for me.”

 Lance yelled, fucking into his fist faster, focused solely on chasing pleasure, on feel of being impaled and filled to the brim. He bared his neck to Shiro, panting and begging for his mark.

 “Do it,” Lance nearly snarled. “I can't if you don't-”

 Shiro didn't think twice, canines digging into that smooth neck, and locking his jaws. Lance howled, came across his fist and locked down on Shiro’s knot. Shiro came like that, explosive and enough to make him nearly cross eyed, as his knot plugged Lance up. A wave of come hit the condom, threatening nearly to rip it as he humped into him. Eventually he finally let them both fall, spooning Lance before him.

 He pulled away from Lance’s neck, licking at the mark. Lance purred, tail twitching and grazing Shiro’s arm.

 He looked over his shoulder, eyes lidded but sharp. He grinned cheekily.

 “Nice shooting, cadet” He teased.

 Shiro groaned burying his face between Lance’s shoulder blades as he laughed. Shiro jostled his knot inside of Lance just to hear his breath hitch. Lance laughed around a purr, a teasing sound that made Shiro weak.

 “How long are we supposed to be stuck like this?” Lance asked.

 “About half an hour at best?” Shiro mumbled around a yawn. “Why? Getting second thoughts?”

 “No, no. Just - figured I should get used to it now since I don’t plan on mating with anyone else. You know too much. But also I like you too much,” Lance happily said. “Cuddle me some more.”

 Shiro kissed his shoulder then his mating mark, tightening his hold on his boyfriend.

 “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> first shance fic and shamelessly fluffy one at that. First time writing smut? Lol i'm sorry if it sucks. In case you were wondering, Lance is 22, Shiro is 24. Also, Keith is 21 and Allura is 25. They're not tagged because they barely show up.


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